InsaneJournal

On His Knees (Scripps, R)
Title: On His Knees
Character: Scripps
Rating: R
Word Count: 318
Warnings: Somewhat sacrilegious.
Disclaimer: The History Boys belong to Alan Bennett, not to me.
Summary: There are two reasons for him to be on his knees, but only one is right.
Notes: Originally posted as comment porn for celandineb.


Some days were easier than others.

He didn't actually want to think of anyone, not the brunette with the fabulous tits kneeling in the third pew, not the wonder that was Fiona as Dakin constantly described her, and certainly not Irwin.

Not that he did think of Irwin. That was Dakin's department.

Scripps folded his hands tighter and pressed his forehead to them, willing himself to keep focussed on the task at hand. Organ music rolled over him in waves. His knees ached from being pressed against the kneeler for so long, and fuck but why'd he have to go and realise that, because—

On my knees, same as you, probably. The phrase rolled over and over in his mind, his own voice mocking him. They'd laughed and shoved each other a bit and walked out into the world and Scripps doubted if Dakin remembered those words, and if he did, Scripps was fairly certain he'd said them in a joking enough manner, but—

Okay. Stop this. Scripps lifted his eyes as the click of heels sounded and the brunette from the third pew started down the aisle, those unbelievable tits of hers bouncing in her low-cut black dress like nothing had a right to bounce. Scripps squeezed shut his eyes again and ground his forehead into his clasped hands and prayed. Hard.

Except the problem was that if he prayed for help with the things he didn't want to think about, then he'd end up thinking about them, and he'd end up getting hard in church which was not on.

It was only a little bit less wrong late at night when everything was dark and God wasn't pressing in on him quite so hard and he took himself in hand as sleep drew near and imagined himself on his knees.